


It's a test

by annie_rose



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Sansa POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_rose/pseuds/annie_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is nervously waiting to take her driving test, to become a licensed driver. When Sandor gets into the car, she assumes he's the instructor. Little does she know, he's actually a convicted felon on the run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this idea just would not leave me alone, and it's slow at work today so I thought I'd give it a whirl. I've never written in first person before so I don't know if I'm doing it right haha. This is kinda just a little tester to see if people like it and if they do I'll add more to it when I can. Sorry it's so short. Hope you like it!! Xxx

Stay calm. Just breathe, Sansa. I whisper to myself as I wait in the car. Today's the day I go for my license. No, today's the day I get my license. Yes. I nod to myself. And though my knuckles have gone white from the death grip I hold the steering wheel in, at least I know the driving instructor. Well, sort of. He went to school with my brother and they were quite good friends. I wonder what that booster seat is for... 

Oh my god. Please don't be him. Please please please don't be him. It's him. Fuck. My driving instructor opens the car door and he's the scariest man I've ever seen! Burns cover half his face and he's at least 6 and a half feet tall. He looks to be in quite the rush. He opens the door and sits down. He immediately picks up the driving cap on the dash and puts it on, tucking his long black hair into it. I can see his scars a lot more clearly now. Lucky me. 

He picks up the folder that was also resting on the dash and opens it quickly skim reading my information. 

"Sansa Stark?" 

"Tyrion Lannister?"

He nods curtly and lifts his hips to throw the booster seat into the back of the car.

"Start driving, hurry up I don't have all day." 

Ew. He's awful. He stinks of sweat, and his clothes are sticking to him. And.. Oh my god. Is that blood? Gross!

"You're bleeding. A little on your nose."

He wipes it on the back of his hand and looks at me waiting for me to drive. 

"You need to put on your seat belt." I say and I hate that my voice is so timid. 

He puts on the belt and urges me to start driving. Maybe he's being this way to see how I drive under pressure. Maybe he's trying to make me forget what needs to happen before you start driving. 

I make a show of putting my seatbelt on and checking all rear view mirrors twice before starting the car. His leg is jumping, and he might just be the most impatient person I've ever met. 

I start to pull away from the curb and he grunts impatiently. "Hurry it up a bit, could you?"

"I'm going the appropriate speed limit sir."

"My grandmother drives faster than you."

"Really? Does your grandmother usually break the law?"

He growls at me and I grip the steering wheel tighter. It's now that I notice the commotion behind us. Police cars are surrounding the building I was just parked outside of. 

"Oh! I wonder what's going on!"

My instructor looks over his shoulder and smirks. "Yeah... I wonder."

Weird.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the fun continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's 2am, and I have a cold, so I'm slightly delirious (slightly drunk) which equals brave. This is my attempt at being funny. Really, I should be working on my other two fics I've started and just left hanging, but theyre so serious! And girls just wanna have fun! And I'm a girl! oh dear god, I'm gonna regret this.

"So where am I going?" I've been driving round in circles for the last 10 minutes but he's been too busy to notice as he's only just hung up his phone and has been peering out the back window over and over again like a schizophrenic.

He looks at me like I'm an absolute moron. How the heck am I supposed to know where we're going? "Take a left here." He says and faces forward. It's a few more minutes of awkward silence only ever interrupted when he's giving me directions. I hate his voice. It's so harsh, and so sarcastic. He's quite up himself. I don't know how anyone can manage to be pretentious about being a driving instructor but he's doing a fine job. 

He tells me to pull over and I say "So, how did I do?" A perfectly reasonable question. Once again, he looks at me like I'm the biggest nob, and growls a "yeah, fine, whatever, we're not done yet I need to grab something from inside." 

Is he serious? Is this even a part of the test? You know what? I'm going to file a complaint. No, really. I was nervous already going into this, and he's just made this whole experience an absolute nightmare. He's a right prick. A quick glimpse in the rearview mirror tells me I'm blushing, even though I only swore in my head. It's a rare occasion I ever cuss. But there's just something about him. He really gets on my wick.

So I'm waiting.... And waiting... And wow, look at that - IM STILL WAITING! It's been fifteen minutes when I finally decide to leave the car. The front door isn't locked so I just walk right on in. The first thing I hear is a loud bang, and at first I just think it's a door slamming - he seems the type to just throw things around. He's so grumpy. I chastise myself as I walk down the hall. He might have had a really bad day. I should try and be nice. "Be the bigger person," my mother would say. Though that rarely was the case when it came to a disagreement between me and Arya. Arya! That's who he reminds me of...

I come into the lounge room expecting to find one big angry brute but when I walk in I find three, one of which lies unconscious on the ground, the other is wrestling with Tyrion. The sight before me makes me squeal and run from one side of the room to the other. I don't quite know what to do with myself. They both look up but continue fighting. I have absolutely no idea what to do. This is all very alarming and I feel ill equipped for such a situation.

"Sansa!" Tyrion calls out and nods towards a gun. Oh dear god, how did this happen? I pick up the gun with shaky hands and point it in their direction.

"Hey! You! Both of you stop that right now." They both look up at me and Tyrions expression is a mix of exasperation and morbid humour. The other guy just outright laughs at me! "I shake the gun and move it so it's sideways, I once saw a movie where they said if you hold a gun sideways -you mean business. I think it might have been a comedy, but it should still be accurate. 

They both start wrestling again, and it's infuriating. They're like children. "I'm serious! Stop it!" Now, even though I've moved the gun from in their direction, a stamp my foot as I say what I said and somehow amidst the chaos the gun went off and I accidentally shot Tyrion. Only just! It only just grazed his arm but he looks up at me in astonishment, and not the good kind. "Really?" He asks and I don't know what I'm doing. So I just shrug and start to hyperventilate. The other guy laughs again, and Tyrion punches him rather hard in the face, he seems to be losing consciousness now, two more punches and that's done the trick. Tyrion sits there for a second, catching his breath before he stands and moves back towards the kitchen. He brushes passed me and shoots me a glare. I don't care. I am so passed the point of caring. I just want to go home and cry. Driving license or no. This day has been an utter disaster.

I follow him wordlessly through to the kitchen and he rummages around through the draws and cupboards. I was right by the way, he does slam things. He tells me to wait there in the kitchen while he goes and 'takes care of things.' I do not know, nor do I want to know, what he means by this.

Eventually he emerges from the hall again in a different set of clothes. He grabs a first aid kit and a mysterious looking bag from the counter and motions me to follow. 

He leads me down to a garage and tells me to hop in. I should ask why we're changing cars. In fact I should ask a lot of things. But that's not what I do, is it? I do what I'm told. I get in the drivers seat, start the car and drive out. Tyrion's patching up his arm, and shooting glares in my direction every time I stall. I'm nervous okay?! I spend the next five minutes opening and closing my mouth trying to find the right words to express my feelings about what has transpired this morning. When I finally get the nerve to speak up he talks over the top of me. So rude.

"So what's your real name?" He asks and I'm sitting there like, 'what is this guy on?'

"Sansa." I say, and I have the same sarcastic edge to my voice that he has in his. 

He rolls his eyes and turns to me. "Look if you're worried I'm gonna 'dob you in' don't. I'm no snitch." What in the hell is he on about? I narrow my eyes at him and his eyes widen. 

He groans and rubs his hands over his face "Please tell me you're not really Sansa Stark." 

"What? Of course I'm Sansa Stark?" 

His jaw clenches and he's shaking his head mumbling "wrong car, wrong (and here he punches the dash board.) fucking car." I jump in my seat and he looks me over. "Ugh. Why are you only just going for your drivers license? You're twenty-three!?" 

"Um, hold up there big guy, why is it my fault we're in this situation. Like you said, you've obviously taken the wrong car and landed me in all your... Criminal business!" 

"Oh my god," he laughs sardonically and looks to the roof of the car. "This is my punishment."

"What?" 

"The gods, are punishing me. With you. Of all the people... That this could've happened with. They tie me up with an absolute square."

"I am not a square!" 

"I don't care."

"And you..."

"I don't care."

"Oh my god." I've never hated someone before, so I'm not sure but I think I hate this man. Tyrion. If that even is his real name. I bet it's not!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it xx


	3. It's like I'm walking on a tightrope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from tightrope buly illy, cause it was all I listened to while writing

"For the love of God..."

"I would like to go home now!" 

We're both talking over the top of one another, and never in my life have I been so rude to a complete stranger but I cannot reign myself in. He pushes me too far. Fair enough, I shot him in the arm - but it was an accident! It's not like I did it on purpose! Though, to tell the truth if I was to go back in time I doubt I'd stop myself. He's horrible. He makes fun of my driving and says if he were the instructor I've had failed. In response I step on the brakes and make him almost hit his head. I did warn him to wear a seatbelt. 

That's another thing, if someone stops this car, and he's not wearing a seatbelt I lose demerit points. Not him, me! But he doesn't care, all he wants to do is be dangerous, and live life on the edge. 

He's just cleaned his wound and is about to sew it up when I make a noise in the back of my throat that makes him roll his eyes at me. 

"What?" He growls.

"You should really clean that needle. I mean, you shouldn't be trying do it all while I'm driving, anything could happen, but if you do you should clean it first. The needle, that is." 

He eyes me with derision. "What are you, a nurse?"

"As a matter of fact yes. I am a nurse. But even if I wasn't I'd still know not to sew myself up with that filthy thing, it's called common sense." 

He sews it up anyway - without cleaning it. Fine. What do I care anyway. He can get tetanus and die. I'm appalled at my own thoughts and immediately take them back, I may not like him but wishing someone death is disgusting behaviour. 

"Pull over." He gruffs at me, gesturing to the side of the road with his big hairy hand. 

I stop beside a patch of grass and Tyrion jumps out, and calls someone on his phone. The door slams shut in my face is I try to peer over to inquire why we've stopped. It's not like he's driving, he could have taken the call while I drove. Which leads me to my next train of thought - why am I driving anywhere with him. I should just drive off here and now. Take his car and drive away home. But that would be rude, one part of me says. And calling him an oaf and wishing him dead is not? Another part argues. 

I have no time to decide however, because he's opened my car door and is staring down at me. What is that expression? He looks ... Not like he's annoyed, but like he's about to be. He looks back down the way we came and then the road ahead before grabbing my arm, not ungently. He pulls me out of the car and I spy the gun tucked in the front of his trousers. For a second I think he's going to kill me, but no, he opens the cars boot and shoves me in. 

"What...?!?"

"Stay in there, and don't do anything stupid. You're a criminal now too remember." He says pointing to his barely grazed arm. 

I go to reply but he shuts the boot and I'm eclipsed by darkness. In my despair I start to cry, and I think I cry for a good hour, but I couldn't be sure, as the oaf has taken my phone and I don't wear a watch. 

I try banging on the side of the ca where I know the car seats would be an he swerves and makes me go flying into the side and hit my head. After that I try and sleep it's obvious he's not letting me out any time soon. 

After what I presume is hours the car stops moving and he opens the trunk. I'm already waiting for him and hit him with the palm of my hand as hard as I can, just the way Arya showed me too. He curses and I jump out and go to run but he tackles me down, and pins me to the ground.

"Fuck, Sansa. We talked about this didn't we? Now I'm going to have to tie you cause you won't behave. I was going to let you out to pee, but now you can just wait."

No ones in the garage station to see him make good on his promise. We're on the Middle of nowhere and the hick chewing tobacco behind the register inside doesn't bother looking up at the scene. I fight him, and even though I end up bound at my ankles and wrists, he has a split lip and what I'd imagine to be quite sore balls. 

It's back into the boot or me and the last thing I see before the darkness is his ugly mug. He slams it shut with such force the car rattles and I jump. Now the adrenaline has left my body I can feel where I'm hurt from when he tackled me. My knees feel grazed and my hip hurts when I put too much weight on it. What an... Asshole. 

The car engine must have lulled me to sleep because it's now I wake and what a surprise it's too complete darkness still. The car is still going and I have to pee, every time he turns a corner I feel it even more so. I try bashing on the side again but he either ignores me or doesn't hear me. It's now I remember a documentary I once watched about a woman who was abducted. She gave all sorts of tips and what not to get out of sticky situations and one of them was about being locked in a boot. I remember her talking about a part in the corner that if you press on hard enough can come loose, and behind that is the taillight. If I can just blow out the light, or even better remove it and wave my hand through, someone bound to notice! 

I look for that magic piece and when I find it I push with all my might. Eventually it comes loose and the rest is history. I feel quite proud of myself for achieving such a task, and think maybe I should change my name to Macgyver. I laugh at my own lame joke as the car comes to a halt. I see the tell-tale signs of a cop through my little peep hole and rejoice. I bash on the hood of the car but the cop walks straight past me! He goes to Tyrions window and asks him to step out and open the boot.

Light comes streaming in when the car boot opens and I wince at the light as it blinds me. My eyes finally manage to adjust and the two of them are standing there staring down at me. The police man looks to be in his mid forties. He has an old, warn face, but his eyes dance, like that of a teenage boy. I look at Tyrion, and he's scowling, as per freaking usual. 

The cop looks to Tyrion and laughs - actually laughs! What the hell?   
"You can't keep her in the boot, she's just gonna cause you more trouble, you're lucky it was me who responded to the call."

"Mate, I am anything but lucky today." Tyrion replies looking down at me again. 

I gasp at his insinuation. I've had it much worse than him since we've met. This... This beast, of man who throws his weight -literally and figuratively speaking- and has the manners of an ape. I tell them as much and the police officer bursts into laughter. 

Tyrion scowls at him and hits him in the side. "Oh, lighten up Sandor." He says as he rolls his eyes at the scowling man-beast.

Sandor must be his real name, I realise. Sandor. Sandors quite a nice name. It suits him. 

"Shut up Bronn, I swear to god if you'd had half the day I'd just had you'd be just as pissed."

"Pfft, I heard all about your day from you know who. He told me to give you this." 

The officer - Bronn, hands him a large envelope and Sandor opens it up taking out a plain white page first which I assume is a letter from his employer. He reads the letter through narrowed eyes, so narrowed I'm surprised he can see at all. He scrunched the paper in his fist abruptly and shouts at Bronn "is this a fucking joke?"   
I'm scared of him now, i wasn't before, but I can literally feel his fury. It emanates from his person and I move away from him as much as I can. 

Bronn seems to notice my trepidation, and stops provoking Sandor and tries to calm him down instead. 

"Well he's not exactly known for his kickin' sense of humour..."

While Sandor goes through the rest of the things in the envelope, muttering disgusting curse words, Bronn loosens my ties and shoots me a sympathetic look. It almost makes me cry. I'm not used to this. How did this even happen? It wasn't my fault he got in the wrong car! All I want is to go home! I swear I won't tell anyone what happened! I try to convey this all with my eyes as tears threaten to spill over. Bronn shakes his head at me and nods towards Sandor in warning. I nod silently and look away.

Bronn opens the car door for me. I hop in and after a quick goodbye Sandor is in the car sitting next to me. He eyes me with distaste and shakes his head before starting the car.

"So what did your boss say?"

Nothing.

"Did he say I can go home?"

Oh! He's still saying nothing, how unusual.

"Can you at least tell me where we're going!" I yell in exasperation, my voice is all high pitched and whiny and so unladylike but I don't care. I need to know or I'm going to go insane. 

"Vegas." Is his only verbal answer. He chucks over the envelope with all the information in it. I unfurl the scrunched up letter from his employer and my eyes go wide with the knowledge it provides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, this won't be a very long fic all in all maybe four or five chapters more? I don't know, we'll see how it goes. Leave a comment if you'd like, I love feedback xxx
> 
> Ps sorry I did not edit this and I have no beta so...


	4. I'm just a girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from no doubt "just a girl"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! just wanted to say thanks for reading and commenting. 
> 
> Thanks to my incredible Beta Firehound for editing this chapter and making suggestions for it to make sense where it didn't and just a better fic in general. Seriously, she made the chapter 100x better than what it was. I don't even know how to say Thankyou enough :) 
> 
> hope you enjoy the chapter, leave a comment and let me know what you think :) xxx

The drive to Vegas is filled with tension. I've always hated conflict, being a Libra and all. I study Sandor out of the corner of my eye... I think he'd be a Scorpio. He's all a macho-macho man; he doesn't seem like the type you'd want to mess with. Every Scorpio I've met has been quite the same: my father is a Scorpio, and so is Arya and Jon, my sister and my cousin. They're all very quiet and brooding, and slow to trust. I don't think Sandor would ever trust anyone however.

Eventually he notices me looking at him. "What?"

"Nothing." I quickly look away. He probably thinks I was staring at his scars. I wasn't; that's literally the last thing I'd willingly do. They really are horrible, and I avoid them as best I can.

"Look, I'm not exactly thrilled about this situation either, but if we both do our jobs right, you'll be home in a couple of days and we can forget this ever happened."

"A couple of days?!" I shriek and Sandor swerves the car with his jolt of surprise.

"God-damnit woman, I'm trying to drive!" He smacks the steering wheel, and breathes heavily.

"A couple of days? I thought..." I only thought we were driving to Vegas, dropping off whatever it is he needs to drop off, and leaving...

"Just shut. The fuck. Up."

"You're a mean, hateful man!"

He throws his head back and makes a sound, a disgusting cackle that at first I think is him choking. I soon catch on, however, that it's his version of laughter. "You're only just figuring that out now?"

"Whatever." I say to myself, because I'm positive he's stopped listening.

Now he keeps side-eyeing me, and I can feel as tears stain my cheeks. Sandor reaches over and I'm not sure what he intends to do but I still flinch. He pulls a handkerchief from the compartment under the dash board and hands it to me. "Come on, enough of that." I suppose it's his way of trying to comfort me.

"I just want to go home! I've had enough!" I sob, but he doesn't look bothered by the statement.

"You can as soon as the job is done."

"That's too long. What about my family? They'll be so worried, can't I at least call them?"

"No."

"Why not? I'll just tell them I'm okay. I won't say anything else! I promise."

"I said no Sansa." I can hear that he's starting to lose patience with me, he was trying to be kind before. But then I think, I've got every right to be angry. This is his fault, not mine. I'm the one who's been taken against my will. If anyone should be angry, it should be me.

"Oh, and you just call all the shots? I'd like to speak to your... Employer, or manager or whoever controls you." I say in my most authoritative voice, I remember hearing my mother use that voice with Arya, whenever she was naughty. Evidently, it's the wrong thing to say as his face contorts with rage with the use of the word 'control.'

Next thing I know, he's pulled over to the curb and is getting out of the car. I watch as he storms over to my side and I reach to lock the door, but I'm too late. He wrenches open the door and yanks me out. I almost fall with his rough handling of me, but he catches both my arms and pushes me against the side of the car. It doesn't hurt, so I know he's made a conscious effort to be somewhat careful, but I'm so scared I could pee myself from the look he's giving me.

"You're right, they do control me. They say "jump", I jump. They say "kill", I kill. They say anything at all, I will do it without second guessing, just like you will. No, you cannot contact them, I'm the only one who speaks with them. No, you cannot call your family, it's too risky - for you and for them. You will do as I tell you, or you will face the consequences. Is that clear?"

I try to twist away but he only moves closer, leaning his body against mine to block my escape. I don't like the way his hands cage me in with them resting either side of my head, I don't like the way his body presses into mine, and I most definitely don't like the way I can feel him half hard against my stomach. However, I can't deny his dangerous demeanour does excite me somewhat. In a furious-curious kind of way. I give up the fight, and stop struggling "Crystal." I say between gritted teeth.

"Good, now do we need to kiss and make up, or are you alright?" He teases.

"See, this is exactly why I'm not doing this. I could stay for two days and handle this if it were anyone else, but you have to push me to the absolute limit." I say as I shove at his chest again. He actually grins. Can you believe that? What an arrogant, self-righteous, pig-headed....

Suddenly his lips are on mine. Moving against mine. Ew. A constant stream of What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? is all that is going through my head. Both of us have our eyes open, and I can see the laughter in his. You asshole, I want to say. But I can't as my lips are preoccupied. I suddenly realise that my lips are moving back against his. Why are they doing that?! Make them stop! Oh my god. Has he invaded my mind too? Is he somehow controlling me through that superpower in all those comics Bran used to read? I can't think of the word, but I think it's that. I try to stare daggers at him but he's not looking at me anymore.

His eyes are closed, and for a second I consider giving in to the kiss. It can't hurt, "the mission." And if I'm being honest, it's not entirely horrible. His tongue brushes my lip. Yes, maybe not horrible at all. But my head clears and I recover myself.

He finally breaks away from the kiss when his tongue tries to enter my mouth and I bite until I draw blood. He smirks at me as he stares at my swollen lips. "We'll have to work on that," he says, wiping his mouth. He spits the blood out and opens my car door.

"We'll work on nothing!" I snap. Our eyes meet for a second. I know that _he knows_ I may have enjoyed that kiss just a tiny bit.

"Whatever. Get in the fucking car. Your chirping's giving me a headache."

I hop in and cross my arms over my chest, feeling rather violated. Though, a small voice in the back of my mind says that isn't exactly true...

Sandor sits back down in his seat and refuses to start the car until I look at him. "What?" I snap.

He grabs my hand and, with mock sincerity, says "We good, honey?"

"Just peachy!" I snatch my hand out of his grasp. The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. I'm angry that he can do that. That he can act like a complete and total ass, then kiss me and make me lose all common sense. I'm supposed to hate him. He makes it so easy... So why is it so hard?

The rest of the ride is filled only by the sound of the radio. It's been three hours when we finally see the lights of Vegas, glowing in the distance. When we enter the city my mouth drops open in awe. It's so beautiful. I take in the colours, the seedy smell of smoke and strong liquor, and think of all the money that makes this place all the more alluring. Strange, beautiful people walk the streets and I can't help but smile. Sandor says I grin like an idiot, but I think he scowls like one, so we're the matching couple he's been telling me we're supposed to be. I tell him this and his knuckles go white around the steering wheel. I don't even care anymore. Let him be angry. The only thing that seems to make him happy is when I'm upset, and I've decided I'm going to make the best of this situation. I refuse to be unhappy because of my unsavoury company. I will treat this like the holiday to Vegas I've always wanted.

The car slows down and we pull into an extremely expensive looking hotel. While we wait in line for the valet Sandor turns to me again. "So, you're good with the story?"

I roll my eyes and lean my head against the window. "Yes, Sandor." I drone. The letter in the envelope that Sandor had received from his employers explained all there was to know. All except for the duration of his 'mission'. I pull out my fake passport and fake ID.

"Good." We reach the valet and Sandor passes the boy his keys, muttering a threat about the welfare of his car that makes the poor child's eyes pop out of his skull. I step forward and give him a generous tip and a kiss on his cheek, and send him on his way. Sandor scowls at me. I get the feeling he doesn't like me taking control. Good. I'll have to do that more often. The reception desk is the perfect opportunity to do so.

"Hello, we're here to check into our hotel room." I say politely.

"Yes certainly, your names?" The receptionist inquires.

"Shae Lannister." I hand her my documents and she looks them over then hands them back looking at Sandor expectantly.

"Tyrion Lannister." He growls. I have to stifle my laughter at the look on his face. I'm not the one who needs to be told to keep in character. He notices my mirth and shoots me a glare but then his frown turns to a grin as he snakes a hand around my waist and pulls me close. He turns my chin and tries to kiss me. I push against his chest and let my hands rest there.

"Darling, we're being rude." I look apologetically at the receptionist who only waves me off cheerfully.

Sandor butts in. "Sorry. We're newlyweds, came here for our honeymoon. I guess I'm just eager to get up to our room." He smirks down at me again.

"Well, here's your key, and I'll send up a bell boy with you to take your luggage." She says smiling.

"Oh, we don't..." I start but Sandor or 'Tyrion' cuts me off again.

"Remember we had it flown here ahead of our arrival, honey?" Wow, they really take care of everything. It's good, I was worried about what I'd wear. But the thought of someone finding out what size clothes I am, and shopping for me, somehow makes me uncomfortable.

"Right, yes. Well, thank you." I take the key from the counter and start walking towards the elevators. Sandor catches up to me and slaps my behind, before letting his hand rest there, with an appreciative squeeze. In the elevator, I turn to him, glaring. "I swear to god, if you ever touch me again..."

"Only playing the part, darling."

"You disgust me." The trolley boy walks into the elevator with our bags and presses the number of our floor. Sandor brings his arm to rest on my waist again. This is harder than I thought it'd be. His touch repulses me, but also it doesn't. It's all very confusing, and I'm sure he knows this.

The high pitched _ding_ signals we've stopped at our floor and I'm delighted to find that we have the whole floor to ourselves as it's only our room up here. It's no wonder when the suite is so big. It's amazing! It must have cost an absolute fortune, even if it is only for a couple of nights. I go to walk away but Sandor grips my waist, keeping me glued to his side.

The nervous trolley boy drops the bags off and we both smile and thank him as he leaves the room. As soon as the door closes, Sandor pushes me away from him and I almost trip. He's so rude! We both storm off in different directions and I'm horrified to find there's only one bedroom. Well, he can just sleep on the couch.


	5. Lonely holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from 'lonely holiday' by the old 97's. The songs one of my absolute favourites!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely amazing beta, Firehound! Youre lovely and amazing, and sooooo honest it hurts, but I love it, thanks for all your help :D and thanks to everyone commenting and reading, I'm so glad you've all enjoyed the story, and I hope I can construe to entertain xxx

We haven't stopped fighting since we got in the hotel room. You'd think with all the space, we could avoid each other, but if I walk into the bathroom, he's left the toilet seat up. If I go in the kitchen, he's raided the mini-bar and left nothing but empty bottles scattered on the bench. He's like a child who hasn't been taught to behave properly. Everywhere I look I see his mess. I know I said I'd try to make the best of this and not let him get in the way of my good time, but it's a bit hard to have good time when he won't let me do anything. 

"Please! I promise I won't run off! I just want to see the sights," I beg. Even though it's a large space I feel like I'm suffocating in here. 

His answer is a mumbled "no" without looking up from the papers he's reading. 

I plop down on the couch and turn on the TV, switching the channel to MTV. They're playing old hits. I laugh as the Spice Girls come on and I reminisce about how Arya and I would only ever get along when it came time to choosing music. I'm too caught up in my thoughts to see Sandor walking over and grabbing the remote. He turns the TV off and sits back down, remote still in hand. 

"Why did you...?" 

"I'm not listening to that shit. Can't concentrate on a damn thing while that racket's going."

"Alright, well I'll change the channel," I offer.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess, and say that anything you put on is going to drive me insane. I think I'll just hold onto this." He says dropping the remote in his lap.

You're driving me insane! I want to yell. And I think without meaning to I did, as his head shoots up and he glares at me before chuckling. "Don't go getting all wound up in knots over a fucking TV program."

"I'm not! You won't let me do anything! There's literally nothing else to do!" 

It's like that for a while. Just back and forth, back and forth. I'll say something to him and he'll say something at me. Eventually we both lose our tempers. We yell at each other, not even listening to what the other is saying, just yelling. If he's going to act like a child, then so can I.

"...and you're mean, and you still smell! For god's sake have a shower!" 

"...you don't EVER fucking shut up. All I hear is this annoying high pitched fucking... Chirping in my ear, like a goddamn parrot!

There's a knock at the door. We both look at each other and I run to open it. On the other side stands a very confused-looking waiter with champagne and strawberries. Did Sandor order this?

"Excuse me Miss, I hope I'm not intruding. On behalf of the hotel we've brought you some champagne and strawberries in honor of your honeymoon.... But I can come back later if now isn't a good time. I thought I heard..." 

"No, no, please come in." 

It's now that Sandor decides to materialise out of nowhere. "Sorry. We got quite loud with our lovemaking." He smirks at my absolutely horrified expression and leans forward to continue with a hand raised as if he's telling a secret to the waiter: "It's our first time trying anal!" 

Oh. My. God. Good lord, give me strength. Deep breaths... Deep, deep breaths. "I'm sure our sexual endeavours are of little interest to the waiter, Tyrion." I say coolly. He's such an ass; he knows this makes me uncomfortable. I feel like he's punishing me... but I don't even know what he's punishing me for. All I did was ask to go do something. Anything at all. But no, he needs complete and utter silence. And I can't leave the suite because he thinks I'll run off. Even if I did, what would it matter? He's already made it very clear that they'd find me and kill me for my insolence.

"No need to be embarrassed, Shae. We're all adults here."

And once again, I open my mouth without thinking. "Au contraire, my love. It was you I was thinking would be embarrassed. I've never been a fan of it myself, but you seemed to quite enjoy the feeling of a dildo up your arse. Didn't you, sweetheart?" 

I look over to Sandor and immediately realise my mistake. He may not kill me, but he can still make my life hell. What if he locks me in the car boot again? Or tells his employers that I'm a liability? Images flash before my eyes of the day before when Sandor was fighting that other man. What if he... hurts me? Would he? I sneak a peek at his stormy grey eyes once more, and all I see is anger. I don't know if he would actually hurt me but I'll not risk it. I stand suddenly and his eyes cut to me again. "Darling, I just need to head to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

I hurry to the bedroom as fast as I can without looking strange and lock the door behind me. I then place a chair against it, then remove the chair and try to place a large chest of drawers there instead. A measly chair won't hold him back and I'm guessing picking locks is one of his many criminal talents. The chest is heavy and I end up removing all the drawers just so I can move it. My mind can barely function. I'm so on edge. I hope the waiter dawdles so I have more time. I replace the drawers in the chest and grab his mobile that's resting on the bedside table as I run into the bathroom, locking this door as well. Just in case, you know. Men get crazy when their ego is hurt.. And he's a Scorpio, so....

Just then I hear him showing the waiter out and then stomping over to the bedroom. He knocks on the door. "Sansa. I just need my phone. I'm not angry. I just need the phone." This sounds like a trick, and I'm not falling for it.

"Hmmm, no. I don't think so. Get a different phone. There are three out there; use one of them." 

I hear him bash against the door. "Open the fucking door, Sansa!" 

I'm scared now. How could I have been so stupid? Why did open my stupid mouth? That door won't hold him and I know he's really angry. Hot tears stain my cheeks as I hear him repeatedly ram into the door; I can hear the chest of drawers scraping against the floor as they slide out of place. My heart is beating rapidly and I try in vain to call the police. The only number the phone can call is Sandor's employers, which I learn when I'm redirected and a man with a soft, smooth voice answers the phone. 

"Sandor?" 

"No... It's... It's... My name is Sansa." I stutter, trying and failing to remain calm on the phone. 

"Oh Sansa, where's Sandor?"

"He's outside the room. I think he's going to hurt me."

"Sansa, calm down. I need you to give the phone to Sandor, okay?" 

"I don't want to go anywhere near him!" 

"Just give him the phone and everything will be alright." Just then the bathroom door flies open. I'm crouched in the corner of the bath, the furthest I can get from him. He looks even taller from down here. He looks like a giant. My hand is shaking and when Sandor bends down and takes the phone I flinch. He shakes his head and looks at me like I'm pathetic before storming out onto the balcony to talk to the man with the silken voice.

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and begin to sob. All of a sudden I feel so helpless. I can't do this. I've always been the good girl. I've always been the one who's polite. Who does the right thing. This isn't right. I'm assisting in criminal activity. But then again, he told me himself he'd kill me if I didn't comply. Eventually all the crying makes my eyelids heavy, my breathing deep and steady. I fall asleep where I'm lying in the tub.

* * *

When I wake it's still night, or maybe just very early in the morning. I'm in a nice soft bed, not the hard surface of the tub. I slowly sit up, wondering how I got in here when I spot a lamp turned on outside the room. Sandor. Now that all the hype has died down I feel guilty. I really do. Guilty and stupid. He wouldn't hurt me because of one stupid comment. The whole situation seems so ridiculous now as I replay it in my head. My head still aches from all the crying. It spins as I slip out of bed and walk over to him cautiously. He looks up from his gun cleaning for only a second, and then focuses back on his work. The expression on his face is almost serene. He looks a lot younger with that look. 

"Yes?" The ceiling in the suite is so high his voice almost echoes.

"What are you doing?" 

"What does it look like?" 

"Aren't you going to come to bed?" I ask, and I don't know why. As soon as I've said it I regret the words. He stops what he's doing and looks up at me, studies my features long and hard before replying.

"'You inviting me into your bed?" 

"It's not my bed, it's the hotels bed." I retort, knowing full well what he really meant. 

He sighs and looks down at his work. With a weary nod, he stands and walks towards the bedroom. He's in pyjama pants and a plain grey t-shirt and it occurs to me he's not as scary in his pyjamas. He reminds me of a big teddy bear I had as a little girl. I called my teddy bear Grumpy because for some reason the makers had decided to fix him with a permanent frown. I took Grumpy everywhere, and I remember dressing him up for bed in a tutu. I don't know why I did that. I think I found it funny as a child. I think of Sandor wearing a tutu and smile to myself even though I'm still scared about what's going to happen next.

We both crawl under the covers and stay as far away from each other as possible. "There are clothes for you in that top drawer if you want to sleep in something other than jeans," he says. I take it as a white flag. 

"Thanks."I mumble and get up to cross the room to the dresser, fishing for something to sleep in. When I find what they've brought me I gasp. "Who, umm, chose the clothes? Do you know?" 

"Not a clue, little bird." Little bird? I don't even think to question the name; my mind is on other things... Like what I'm going to wear to bed. The pyjamas they've provided aren't really pyjamas at all. It's all lingerie. I look through the other drawers and find a baggy t-shirt. This'll have to do.

I get changed in the bathroom and when I walk out Sandor is staring at me with a frown. "You're wearing my shirt," he says. I blush. God this is awkward.

"The nightwear provided for me wasn't... Suitable." 

"Hey, it's fine by me, I kind of like you in my shirt." He smirks at my glowing cheeks. I quickly slip into bed and under the covers. 

We face each other and just stare for a while. I don't know what he sees but he seems content with whatever he finds. And I see a tired man. "My employers are coming by tomorrow to run us through what's going on." 

I nod, too tired to ask questions. Sandor closes his eyes and I reach out and tap his shoulder. "Hmm?" he asks without looking up. 

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you today. I was rude and childish." I don't think I should be apologising but it's the right thing to do.

Sandor only snorts, his eyes still closed but a smile on his lips. "Don't be sorry. I'm the one who started it." 

I close my eyes too and try to fall asleep when he speaks up again. "I'm not... I won't hurt you. I know I said... Back on the highway... But I wouldn't. I was just angry." 

"You tend to be angry quite a lot," I whisper. He growls in the back of his throat and I know I should just accept his thanks and move on, but I'm finding it difficult when he scared me so much. I've always been slow to forgive. I try to further explain. "I don't think you understand just how much of an effect you had on me."

"If you want me to apologize, I'm not going to," he growls. I can hear the anger brewing just below the surface.

"I know. I don't expect you to. I'm just letting you know." I whisper.

He grunts and I feel the mattress shift as he turns over. Sleep doesn't come easy to me. I'm too afraid of what will happen tomorrow. If they'll keep me alive or get rid of me. This very well could be my last night on earth, and as that thought hits me a tear escapes my eye. Eventually I take my pillows and the throw from the end of the bed and make my bed on the couch. The couch is adjacent to a massive set of windows. I open the curtains and sit and watch the stars above and the lights below. I watch until the morning comes and hues of pink, purple and orange paint the horizon. "It's so beautiful." I whisper as I tap my fingertips against the glass, I hear movement in the main bedroom and quickly run back to my makeshift bed on the sofa. I'm there just in time for Sandor to walk past sleepily. I can feel the weight of his gaze as he stands beside me. I try to take deep even breaths and pretend I'm still asleep. But I'm not asleep, so I feel as he pulls the covers up to my chin and pushes my hair back behind my ear. I feel as his fingers linger and trace an imaginary line down my cheek. And for a second, I think I feel his breath there too. Like he might kiss me. But then his touch is gone, and I hear his retreating footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think guys, also, anything you want to see in the coming chapters? Just tell me, I'll try work it in, I'm flexible. :) xxx


	6. Will you ever win?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac,
> 
> Thanks heeeeeaaaappppsss to my darling beta, Firehound.
> 
> And thanks heeeeeeeaaaaapppppsss to everyone who's bookmarked/kudo'd/commented on this fic. You're amazing and I love you like xo
> 
> Also, sorry in advance for this chapter. I know it's kind of boring, but I promise good things next chapter ;) just had to get this one out of the way first. Hope you like it! Xxx

I awake to whispers. Whispers and the smell of bacon. My stomach growls and I groan as I move into a sitting position. I open my eyes one at a time and am immediately blinded by the sun sitting directly across from me. Darn it, I must have slept in. I go to get up and see a plate with my name on it. My stomach growls once more and I lift the lid to find a plate of eggs benedict with bacon and mushrooms to the side. My mouth salivates and I lick my bottom lip before grabbing the fork on the side of the tray. I'm about to eat when I hear whispers again. Sandor's boss! That's right, he said he was coming today. And my hair! Oh god.

There had better be a hairbrush somewhere around here. I can feel the nest of hair at the back of my head. I've never been a morning person; that was always everyone else in my family. I'm more of a night owl, if you know what I mean. Staying up until the late a.m. partying hard with my romance novels. Oh yeah.

I'm running to the bedroom, searching through the drawers in our bathroom for anything to untangle the mess of auburn that is my hair. Unfortunately, whoever packed our bags was a complete imbecile and forgot the most basic of necessities. I don't have a toothbrush, toothpaste or clothes that weren't made for a less than savoury sort from the 1980's. There isn't any decent underwear. Let me tell you, I've gone without wearing a g-string my whole life; I am not about to start now. But what choice do I have if all I have to wear is mini skirts and short dresses? If I go commando someone might see! Anyway, back to the task at hand. Seeing as there's no hairbrush in the bathroom, it's up to me to use my incredibly intuitive brain to fix this problem. Running my fingers through my hair is doing nothing. So I come up with the groundbreaking idea to try and use a fork instead.

As I tiptoe through to the kitchen I hear as the voices get louder. They must be in the second lounge room. Opening the top drawer I grab a fork and begin running it through my hair. Probably not sanitary.

As I try to work out the knots in my hair I creep closer towards the lounge without even really realising. Another bad habit. I'm too nosy for my own good.

"So, how's married life treating you?" I hear a woman's voice ask. But it's a very low voice. It's so masculine sounding that I doubt myself for a second.

"Oh, fuck off." I hear Sandor reply. "You have no idea..."

"Well, it's your own damn fault. If you had met me at the right car, none of this would even been happening." The woman chastises, though I can tell she's joking with the amusement that tints her words.

"So I take it things aren't exactly peachy between you and the missus?" Is that Bronn?

"You know exactly how things are. You've met her! She's a pain in the ass!" Ouch. I don't know why I care, but I do. Almost enough to start crying. They all laugh and talk some more but I don't want to listen anymore. God, I'm such an idiot. I thought with last night, and then again this morning... I don't know what I thought.

I'm in the kitchen, choking back tears while running a goddamn fork through my hair, in nothing but Sandor's t-shirt and this is how he finds me. Sandor's boss, that is. I wasn't watching where I was going and walk backwards into him. I quickly turn, to face him. He is not what I expected. "You must be Sansa." He says extending his chubby digits towards me to shake my hand. He's the one I talked to on the phone. He's a short man. About 5'6, I reckon. A shiny, bald head and round stomach. He smells like flowers, and has a kind face. I decide I like him immediately.

"Yes, I am." I reply, somewhat distracted by the fact that the fork is now stuck in my hair. After a few unsuccessful tugs I give up and let it hang from my mane, so I can shake his hand.

He eyes me with a slight smile, amusement shimmering in his eyes. "Im the spider. Sandor's... Associate." I nod my head and try my best at a smile. "May I..?" He gestures to my hair, and I blush and nod while lowering my head to the pudgy man.

As he tries to pry the silverware from my head he talks about how lovely my hair is, how I'm so pretty, I think he must think I'm on suicide watch, with the way he's showering me with compliments. Then I remember he probably saw the tears in my eyes when I bumped into him, before I could school my features into a look of non-chalance. When the fork is free from my mop he lifts my chin and smiles at me sympathetically. "It's only a few days sweet girl. Don't go ripping your hair out." I giggle shyly, and shift my weight from foot to foot nervously, trying to work up the courage to ask if I can change into some appropriate clothing. As if reading my mind he steps to the side, "Why don't you go get changed, you should find a brush in the draws on your bedside. Come meet me in the lounge with the others when you're ready."

I don't know why. I think it's just because I'm flustered and nervous but instead of excusing myself like a normal person, I bow. Actually, bow. Wow, smooth Sansa, real smooth. I see him fighting a smile out of the corner of my eye as I quickly stand and walk away. I want to punch myself. I've always thought I'm good with people. But I'm not! Arya's right. I am a _noob_.

At least Sandor's 'associate' seems to like me. I think as I skitter away and to the bedroom. _Ugh!_ I have nothing to wear! Digging and digging through the set of drawers I finally decide on the longest skirt I can find and a light pink blouse. I look like a moron, but at least I'm a modestly dressed moron. I find the hairbrush and run it through my hair. It takes a while, but eventually I have brushed out the major knots. It's frizzy, but still tangle free. A quick glance in the mirror is enough to make me cringe. I look _awful_! Oh well. I'll just have to buy some clothes If I ever convince Sandor to let me leave the floor.

Walking out into the lounge room, everyone is sitting down talking quietly amongst themselves. I see 'the spider' and Bronn, and sandor and the woman with the deep voice. As I walk in they all stare at me and Bronn grins at my appearance. Sandor frowns and looks me up and down, with a question in his eyes.

"These were the only two articles of clothing I could find that didn't make me look like a cheap hooker!" I say in my defence as I come to sit beside him.

He lifts his hand and I flinch again. Not on purpose! But he drops his hand and scowls at me anyway. "What happened to your hair?"

I look across the room to where the spider sits and he smiles sweetly at me. "Nothing." I say, moving away from him as much as possible without drawing anymore attention to myself.

It's obvious they've all already talked. The spider basically says everything I already know. I'm posing as 'Tyrion's' wife. We'll be here at least a week, and it's imperative to the job that we remain in character. What I did not know, however, was that this meant actually leaving the hotel room to go and see the sights and do normal couple activities so we don't look suspicious. Starting with today!

"I've printed out itinerary for you both." The spider says, handing us a bunch of papers each. I flick through them eagerly and almost squeal in delight, to see all the different things we'll get to do. Sandor isn't as ecstatic as I am. It only makes me happier to see the sour look on his face. "Today you'll be..." And here he looks me up and down and hands me a credit card "....shopping." I whisper a timid "thank-you " in his direction. "And tonight, you'll be going to see Fleetwood Mac live in concert."

Oh. My. God. I could faint! I love Fleetwood Mac!!! This day is turning around so quickly! Even if Sandor is terrible and mean. "Bronn and Asha will be checking in on you, during the week. They're staying a couple floors down from you. If you need anything Sansa, just see them. I've written they're room number on you're itinerary." I look to Bronn and Asha and they both smile at me. I can tell Asha's smile is fake, but Bronn's seems genuine, if a little mocking.

"Oh and I almost forgot! Your rings!" He hands me a beautiful emerald ring. The big green rock sits in the centre and is surrounded by smaller diamonds that catch the light and sparkle brilliantly. I place it on my ring finger and move my hand to watch it shimmer, a smile playing on my lips.

I look up and the first thing I see is a similar shimmering. But these aren't diamonds. These are dark grey eyes, that watch my every move. My breath catches and time stands still. At least for a few moments. But then it catches up again, and he looks away as I look to the gold metal band around his wedding finger.

"Sandor, I need to speak with you." The spider says and disappears from the room, to the balcony. Sandor gets to his feet with a grunt. And I'm left alone in the room with the Bronn and Asha. "So, how's it going so far?" Bronn asks.

I narrow my eyes at him. Less than an hour ago he was making fun of me. I'm not sure I want to be making small talk with him at the moment. I look away and focus on something else.

He huffs, leans back in his chair and chuckles. Mumbling something about "too much time with the hound."

I open my mouth to retort when Sandor enters the room again. "Alright, piss off." He says to Bronn and Asha. I gasp at his crude language but they both seem used to it as they laugh, and leave the room.

"Eat your breakfast, and we'll leave." He says and walks back out of the room.

* * *

"Alright. Two hours. Tops. Go."

What is this? This is not a race. The art of clothes shopping is something that can take from as little as ten minutes to as long as seven hours. Standing in the largest mall I've ever been in, and I can say right now, it will not be the latter. Especially with an unlimited credit card that's not mine. I turn away from him and make a bee-line for the first store I see. I don't even know how to pronounce the name, but I can tell it's expensive. The manikins are all dressed immaculately and the shop assistant comes to speak with me straight away. Oh, how I've missed this. I haven't been shopping in months!

The shop assistant is nice and genuine, but tells me when I pick out something atrocious. She's harsh but I like her. Soon she has her arms piled with clothes and all there's left to do is try them on. Standing in front of the mirror I smooth my hands over the deep purple fabric that hangs loosely on my body. It's meant to sit like that though. It's beautiful. It brings out my eyes, and compliments my skin tone. Yes. I'll wear this tonight, I think with a smile.

I try on more of the clothes we'd seen and end up getting less than half of what I'd tried on, which is usually the way of it. Still, I have three new pairs of jeans, four shirts, three dresses and some a few rings I saw at the counter. Accessories make an outfit. I tell Sandor this when I exit the first store and head towards a jewellery shop just a few doors down. He does not concur.

Seconds turn to minutes, minutes into hours, and I know that it's been more than two hours. Sandor sits outside the shop I'm currently in. He looks so funny. All those shopping bags around him. He's sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. Scowl permanently fixed in his face. He looks so much like a child who hasn't gotten their way. All grumpy and moody cause we're not doing what he wants to do.

I chuckle to myself. We really should leave soon, it's getting late and the concert starts at 9. Grabbing a pair of shoes that will match my outfit, I buy them and then head to where Sandor sits. "Are we done yet?" I suppress a smile. Something about how he said it, almost makes him cute. How he could ever achieve ' _cuteness_ ' I don't know. Maybe I need to get my head checked. He does look very tired. Maybe we should go?

"I've just got to get one more thing, it's on the way out though." He grunts, and stands, picking up all the bags and following behind me. When I lead him into target he looks at me questioningly. "You can wait outside." I say, hoping to God, he'll leave. I've got to get some decent underwear, and I don't feel like being ridiculed for my taste in undergarments.

"Nah, I'll come. Said you'd only be a minute." Yes. Yes I did say that, didn't I? I'm an Idiot.

I make my way over to the 'intimates' section and find the kind I usually buy. They're pink with rainbows on them, but they feel like you're not wearing anything at all! They're amazing. I quickly snatch them up and hide them under my arm and move quickly towards the register. "Did you even get anything?" I hear Sandor behind me.

"Yes! I just need to go pay for it, I'll meet you outside." I hope he'll get the hint to leave, but he doesn't. For all my hard work, he sees the underwear as the young boy scans them at the register. There's a loud bark of laughter and I cringe. I look at Sandor with a disapproving glare, but he only snorts at my expression. The register boy looks at him funny and sandor responds with "marriage. What you've got to look forward to." He says pointing at my underwear. Isn't my hubby lovely?

* * *

"If you'd just let me ask someone..."

"No! I know where we are."

Liar. We're lost. He knows it and I know it. We've been walking around in circles the last half hour trying to find This place. Ugh, today has been disaster. I mean, the shopping was fun, I love shopping but he's unbearable! He'd made jokes about my panties the whole way home, while I'd blushed and sat there mortified. By the time we got back to the room, we were already sick of each other. He went to mope around in the bedroom while I spent the next hour trying to find the remote he'd hidden. I didn't find it. Still haven't. And now, we're going to be late to the concert all because he won't set his ego aside and let me ask for directions. To make matters worse, I'm wearing heels and I can already feel the blisters forming on the soles of my feet. I spy the some public toilets and know what I must do. Do it for Fleetwood Mac, Sansa. "I need to pee."

Sandor looks down at me and rolls his eyes. "Why are annoyed at me? Everyone has to pee, it's a basic necessity."

"You're the one who keeps complaining that we're gonna be late!" I bite my tongue and turn away from him. He's so grumpy! God. I can't stand him. Making my way into the bathroom, I cringe. Oh lord, is that a... I don't even want to know. I don't want to be in here. The new Gucci's I just bought are going to be tainted by the urine and hookers glitter that litters the floor. And no one is even in here. My plan is foiled. I was going to ask for directions, I start to walk back out, but then I hear the toilet flush.

A tall blond woman walks out, dressed in a short black dress. She's very pretty, with emerald green eyes and a tanned complexion. I walk up to her and smile sweetly as she looks me up and down. "Hi! You wouldn't happen to know where the MGM Grand Garden Arena is?"

"Not exactly." She answers while applying her dark red gloss. "I know it ain't in walking distance though. Best just get a taxi."

"Thanks." Though it's not exactly what I wanted to hear, at least I'm not gonna be walking round in circles with grumpy anymore. We walk out of the bathroom at the same time and I'm surprised by how jealous I am when Sandor eyes the woman next to me. His eyes linger on her curves and when she notices she smirks up at him, twirling her hair. He returns her look and turns his head to watch her walk down the street, his eyes fixed on the exaggerated swing of her hips and perfectly round bottom. "See ya!" She calls over her shoulder at me. I'm too consumed with rage to reply though.

I brush passed Sandor and he barely notices as I hail a taxi. I'm already in the car ready to drive away without him when he comes back to his senses. "What are you doing?" He hisses at me.

"It isn't within walking distance, she said." I say nodding in the direction the blonde woman walked. "So I'm getting a taxi."

"And you were just gonna leave me standing there?"

"You just looked so engrossed, I didn't have the heart to disturb you." I spit back.

His eyes turn black. He's furious, I know, but I just don't care! He doesn't look half as angry as I feel. He shoves me and I fall over in the seat trying to make room for him. The dress I'm wearing, though nowhere near as short as the blonde woman's, rides up and I quickly pull it back down. The corner of Sandor's mouth twitches and I almost slap him for staring at me the same way he stared after that woman. But wasn't that what I wanted? Wasn't that why I was jealous? No, the desert heat must be getting to me. Why would I want his attention? Why do I care, when his expression turns to something more than lust?

So many questions I don't know how to answer. They keep me occupied for the rest of the journey. I feel heat in my cheeks as he continues to let his gaze wander my form. Even when I glare at him, he doesn't look away.

It's not until we've arrived at our destination he does. He quickly gets out of the car comes around to open my door for me. After paying the cab driver he offers me his arm. I stare at it in shock and wonder. Why is he being so nice all of a sudden? I'm suspicious of his motives. I'm about to walk up the steps and leave him hanging, but I look down his arm to where the wedding band sits, snug around his finger. It's the first time I've properly seen it, and without realising I stroke over where the band is. It's simple, and masculine, and somehow so very _him_. Sandor turns over his hand and our fingers intertwine. A shiver runs through me, and I try to hide the effect he has on me by pulling away. But he squeezes my hand and when I meet his eyes it's almost as though he's pleading, and who am I to deny my husband something as simple as holding my hand?


	7. So I'm staggering home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter will be split into two parts, cause I was tired and it was getting too long. Hopefully the next one will be up relatively soon :) 
> 
> Chapter title taken from Gang of Youths 'Magnolia'.
> 
> Also, unbeta'd read at your own risk.

The night passes by in the blink of an eye. It was amazing! The atmosphere. The way we all sang along to the songs. I've always loved concerts. It's that feeling of belonging to something bigger than yourself. You're all there for the same reason, and that's to be lost in the music. Sandor sat down the whole time, checking his watch to see when it'd finish but besides that he was reasonable company. We even shared a laugh at the rather large-Marge in the row in front of us, belting out "the chain" with.... questionable interpretive dance skills.

When the concert is over and they take their final bows, he all but drags me towards the exit. Now, I don't know exactly how it happened but he pulled my arm too hard and my foot caught on a something and then I was falling and I think someone stepped on me and I hurt my ankle. I land with a loud thud and a yelp, and everyone gathers around to ask if I'm okay. I look up in time to see that 'asshole-sandor' has returned -As he wears an exasperated expression, and glares at me when I wince, and say I can't put weight on it. He shoves at the crowd of people congregating around me and hoists me up into his arms. Women, all titter and say how 'sweet' he is. They have _no_ idea.

Haling a taxi proved rather difficult, but eventually we got one, although he did drop us a block away from where our hotel was. Sandor had cursed and spat at the cab, but by the time we'd realised he'd dropped us at the wrong hotel, he was pulling away from the curb and driving down the street.

We stood standing by the gutter, both staring at the pale yellow blotch that ducked down a narrow alley, when Sandor turned and looked at me with distaste. "Can you walk yet? Or do you still have a gimpy leg?"

"It's not gimpy! I'm wounded! Because of your oafishness!" I say, and damnit! How is it I always seem to lose my temper with this man? It really is something I must work on.

He rolls his eyes and bends down, but this time instead of cradling me in his arms, he decides to throw me over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh my god. You are such a gentlemen." I say between groans. His shoulder blade is digging into my stomach and it hurts.

"Well, we both know I live to serve you."

"As every good husband should." I reply as I swing to and fro. After about twenty minutes, Sandor takes a break to look at the map, and plonks me down on a seat at a bus-stop. God, he's hopeless with directions. He's flicking through the pages of the small book, turning sideways, then backwards, then upside down, when a small Asian child comes up to him. Staring at him in -what he assumes is awe. He smirks and goes back to his map, when the child pipes up. "Why you so fat?" I hear in a thick accent. And it's the perfect combination of cute and oblivious that i snort with laughter.

Sandor quickly glares at me before looking to the kid with a frown. "See this?" He says pointing to his bicep, "that ain't fat, that's muscle!" He tenses his arm, and I roll my eyes. Pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers, I try to put an end to this ridiculousness. I'm tired. I'm sore. I just want to go home. "Tyrion. Seriously?" I say, at the same time the kids mother comes to pull him away from the strange man flexing his arms, and trying to explain the difference between muscle and fat.

I smile at him. Little things like this make me almost like him. I don't know why, in my head I think it makes him appear more human, and ridiculous like the rest of us. Sometimes hes a robot, and i just can't relate. Sometimes he's funny without even trying to be. Like now.

Looking back down at the map again, he presses one finger to his nose and blows hard. Snot comes flying out one nostril to the ground. Charming. Maybe 'like' is too strong a word. Amusing. Yes that's the word. I think as I see him mumbling to himself, before placing the map back into my bag. That almost makes me laugh aloud again. He's been carrying it over his shoulder since we left the concert. I think if he knew how ridiculous he looked with the thin strap of the clutch loose around his shoulder, he'd throw it in the bin out of spite. I'd told him it was digging into my shoulder and he'd taken it from me to "shut me up".

"Alright." He says turning to me and flicking the silver clutch handbag out of his way. "I know the way now. Up you get."

He offers me a hand to help me stand and I thought that was rather galant of him, but then he takes me in his arms and starts carrying me down the road honeymoon style, like he did when all the people from the concert were staring. But no one is staring now. No one is around. I let my arms go around his neck for extra support and it's a surprisingly short walk back to the hotel.

"See, what'd I tell ya!" He says pointing to the hotel. "I can do directions just fine."

"Yeah, you're great at 'doing' directions. It only took you an hour to get us 300 metres down the road." I grumble.

Sandor frowns and looks down at me, he has that look in his face he gets when he's coming up with an idea. That's never a good thing. "I could drop you right now." He says as if its a revelation, walking through to the foyer.

His grip on me loosens, almost experimentally. "DON'T!" I whine. He chuckles and then pulls me closer to his chest. There's a peculiar feeling bubbling in my belly, at our close proximity, but I blame it on the three corndogs I scoffed while at the concert. do not judge me. I needed to keep my energy up and everyone splurges on vacation.

He walks over to reception and asks for some ice from the lovely girl who helped us with our room.

"Oh, are you alright?!" It's sweet, I can tell she's genuinely concerned. At least _someone_ is.

"I think I sprained it, while at the show tonight." I say wincing, as I touch to test if it's any better.

"I'll send up the in-house doctor!" She says reaching for the phone.

Sandor almost drops me again as he quickly leans forward with wide eyes "No!" He says hanging up for her. The pretty receptionist frowns, confused. "Uhh.. We forgot our private health care, cards." He says. God, he's a worse liar than me.

"It's alright, we'll just bill it to your room. It won't be much. And besides, she really should get that checked, it looks... Ghastly!" Oh _thanks_! Sandor makes a sound in the back of his throat, so quiet that only I can hear it. It's akin to a growl. i wonder if that's how he got his nickname?

He nods and turns abruptly, heading towards the elevator. I know he's annoyed. All of his movements are sharp when he's angry. Once we get into the room he dumps me on the couch and paces back and forth in front of me. "This is drawing attention to us Sansa! We're not supposed to draw attention, and then you go and get yourself all banged up!"

 _Excuse_ _me_? "It's not like I did it on purpose! It's your fault! You pulled me too hard!"

"I was just trying to get out of there!"

"And I was just trying to have a nice night, but you seem intent on making this whole week miserable!" My stupid eyes start leaking tears and just as he opens his mouth to mock me about it the bell rings.

"I'll get it." He grunts. And I'm glad he's left the room so I can compose myself. This man. This horrible man makes me feel like I'm bipolar. I'm happy one second, sad the next and then I'm - Now I'm angry.

The doctor walks around the corner, and she's a pretty young brunette, with golden eyes, and a sweet smile. "You must be Shae. I'm Margaery." She says extending her hand and placing down a small case next to the couch. I take her hand and smile back at her. Finally, someone who is polite! Oh, how I've missed interactions with civilised people. "Now, I heard you hurt your ankle?" She says, leaning forward to take a look.

I open my mouth to speak, but it's not my voice that fills the room. This voice is moody and exasperated and deep and manly, " She didn't even hit it, she just fell. I'm sure she's fine. No need to waste your precious time doc." I shoot glares at him. It is worth her time! I know for a fact it's sprained. I know, all I need is ice and a bandage, but I don't have a bandage, so I need one from her.

She prods my sore ankle and it brings tears to my eyes when she tries to move it. "Yep, definitely sprained. And a bad one at that. Here, keep it elevated, keep ice on it and I'll just quickly bandage this up for you. It should only take a second. Besides from that, I'm afraid that's all we can do. Just wait for it to heal and get better. Try to stay off of it. Maybe get this big guy to carry you if you do need to go anywhere." She points to Sandor and I smile sweetly up at him, like a true wife.

"I'm sure we can do that. He wants me in his arms every chance he gets."

"I think you've got it twisted, honey. You're the one who can't keep your hands off me." He leans down and nips at my ear and I yelp, and push his face away. The doctor looks on with a gleam in her eye, and a big toothy smile.

"You two are just too cute!"

'Aww!' We both coo. But as soon as she turns towards her task I stick my tongue out at him and Sandor rolls his eyes but i can see he fights a smile at my childish antics. It takes a whole two seconds to release I'm smiling too, and Damnit! Just like that, I'm no longer angry with him. I'm laughing and joking with him. How does this happen? Am I going crazy? These mood swings are ridiculous.

"Ouch!" I cry out as she adjusts the angle of my foot so she can better bandage it. Sandor snorts and makes a cutting remark about how much of a wimp I am. It continues like that for a few more minutes, I whimper or cry and he makes fun of me. By the fifth time it's happened I've had enough. And as an idea enters my mind I don't stop to think about the consequences it might have.

"Tyrion's never had his prostate examined." I say it so flippantly, Sandor doesn't realise what I've said for a minute. When he does, he spits out the water he's been drinking all over me! "Gross!' I whine, flicking spit off of me. The doctor turns around with a frown and looks at Sandor with chastisement. She's all finished bandaging me up now.

"Never?!" She says turning back to me wide eyed and shocked.

"Never!" I say mimicking her disbelief. "And I'm so scared (I use the pain in my ankle to help me produce tears) that one day... He'll just... Drop dead! And it'll be too late!" I cry, shaking my head, wiping away my crocodile tears. The doctor pats my hand and nods sympathetically. Sandor stares at me like I've sprouted another head. The doctor glares at him, and nods towards me. Trying to get him to comfort me.

"Ahh... There, there." He says patting my back. I quickly turn and wrap my arms around his neck, so tight I can hear him gasping for air. "I don't want you to die!" I wail.

"Look, I haven't done this for years, and I don't usually do this, but I do know how to give prostate exams. Maybe I could do one quickly for you." She says looking at Sandor and I smirk at my brilliance. Sandor goes to shake his head and move backwards, but she's already getting her gloves on, and in her hand is a tiny tube I can only assume is lube. "Yes, go wait in there. I'll be just a moment." Sandor doesn't realise it but he's backed himself into our bedroom. He mouths the words 'fix this!' With equal parts desperation and rage.

In response I turn to the Margaery and thank her again for her generous act of kindness. "Oh, honey." She says smiling and patting my hand. "I know what it's like, to worry about the man you love. They don't take care of themselves so it's up to us." I cry some more and nod my head in agreement. I am _so_ good.

Doctor Margaery disappears into the bedroom and shuts the door behind her. I can hear Sandor's feeble attempts at escape, but it's no use. A few seconds later I hear a grunt and him cursing and I know the deed is done. I win.

Ahh, what can I say, don't poke a wolf or you'll get... A prostate exam.

I'm feeling a lot better now that I've asserted my status in this relationship. I don't want dominance. I just wanted to be treated his equal! I don't ask much. Hopefully he'll get that now.

He walks out with a slight limp, pulling out a non-existant wedgie, and I beam at him. I turn to the doctor. "All clear?"

"All clear." She says with a smile and starts to pack up her things.

I'm smiling like an idiot. An idiot who's about to be caught completely unawares. "Your turn!" Sandor says plopping down next to me. And tapping my thigh. _What?_ "Honey," Sandor says sympathetically, "I know the reason you wanted me to get my prostate checked is because you wanted the courage to get _your_ breasts checked. Just because they're small doesn't mean they're immune to cancer." _What?!?_

The young doctor stops what she's doing once more and looks at Sansa for an answer. Look away, please! "I did, remember, just before the wedding." I cringe at my own inept where skills of deception are concerned.

"Shae," he says bopping my nose with his index finger. "You cancelled that one. Come on, sugar tits. There's nothing to be scared of, it's nothing we all haven't seen before!" He smiles at me sweetly, but behind those sweet smiles is an evil, _evil_ man! Ugh, I knew this would come back and bite me!

"Yes Shae, I agree. Breast cancer can happen to any woman, no matter her cup size. You know what? How about we make this a fun exercise?!" She says, trying to lighten my mood. Sandor raises his eyebrows and nods eagerly. "You should check your breasts for lumps daily, but hey, let's not make it a chore! I'm sure Tyrion would be more than happy to lend a hand!" She winks as she says the pun and I groan. Please Jesus, no.

"More than happy." Sandor replies with a nod and a smirk.

Ugh. why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it wasn't too bad, I was really unsure about this chapter, but I really didn't want to leave you guys waiting longer than necessary. Hope you liked it, I'd love to hear your thoughts :) xx


	8. All Glory and Trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last chapter, title taken from Gang of Youths 'Magnolia'

"Great! Okay, Shae I can tell your slightly nervous, so for this time, why don't we keep your shirt on. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." You have no idea woman. None, whatsoever.   
I grit my teeth and nod once. I am going to kill him! 

I shouldn't have but I look over to Sandor to see he's slightly disappointed with the lack of skin I'll be showing, but still happy to take whatever he can get. He's staring at my breasts the way I look at twinkies while I'm on a diet. I cross my hand over my chest and turn away, while the doctor busies herself digging through her briefcase, fishing out a pamphlet she just happened to have on breast cancer. I'm glad that she senses I'm in no mood to talk, so she turns and goes through the pamphlet with Sandor instead.

"Alright Shae, let's have a feel of those boozies." She says playfully, when she's done going through the pamphlet with 'Tyrion'. 

I take a deep breath. Don't worry Sansa, it'll be over before you know it. There's not exactly that much to 'check' anyway. I'm barely pushing c cup. I lower my arms to my sides and slowly turn around. Margaery smiles encouragingly at me and pushes Sandor forward. He's still staring at my boobs hungrily. You can imagine my respite when the look causes butterflies to flutter in my belly. God damnit Sansa, get it together! 

"They're cold!" I squeal as he grabs for my Breasts. The material of my shirt is only thin, and I'm not wearing a bra. I feel as though I might as well be wearing nothing at all. Sandors hands feel like blocks of ice against my sensitive flesh.

He doesn't even pretend to try and look for lumps. Just squeezes lightly and pushes my fun bags together to create some cleavage. I stand there, jaw clenched, foot tapping and my eyes to the ceiling. Margaery laughs, and it's the sound of freaking bells chiming, of course. I am not amused. She moves forward and taps at Sandors wrists. 

"No, no. Here, like this.... See?" 

Oh great. Just perfect. Why don't we call the bellboy up so he can have a feel too? Margaery is poking and prodding and instructing Sandor on how to check my breasts and he's soaking it all in eagerly. They both have a breast each. And what's more, after a few seconds they begin to make small talk! Over my breasts! 

After a couple of minutes Sandors finger tips move closer and closer to the tip of my breast. 

"Woah. Either there's something you've been hiding from me or there's a lump on your boob." He says in all honesty. Shit. Shit on toast. I'd forgotten about that...

"It's nothing..." I say, turning my body away from him. 

"Are you sure, maybe I should have a look..." Margaery butts in. 

"No! It's nothing!" I swat as he goes to feel the anomaly again.

"It's obviously something, Shae." He says my name sarcastically and I despise the tone he's using. 

"Ugh. Leave it alone Tyrion." 

"Just tell me what it is!" He throws his hands up and laughs, but it's closer to a sound of annoyance than one of joy. 

"No!" 

"Why? We're married, we don't keep secrets!" 

"Yes Shae, I agree with Tyrion, it's unhealthy..." Im quickly coming to loathe that woman's presence...

"It's a nipple piercing!" I finally shout, and all of a sudden the noise, the questions all die. Margaerys mouth falls into the shape of an 'o' and a sound escapes to match the shape. I take a deep breath and sigh. "It's a nipple piercing." I repeat. I don't know why. Suddenly the lack of sound is deafening and I'd rather go back to arguing or complete and total embarrassment than this awkward silence. Margaery mumbles some words and makes her way out of the hotel room without much notice. 

That just leaves me and the big guy. He's frowning. Staring at the floor, kicking at nothing. "So," he says, looking up "nipple piercing, huh?" He grins and it's enough to make me want to throttle him. However I am less than half his size. Throttling - at least from me, is out of the question. So I roll my eyes and turn towards the bedroom with a huff. 

I'm in such a haughty state I forget my sprained ankle. The stupid thing that got me in this mess on the first place. With a cry I fall to the ground. And he's there. By my side offering me a hand while laughing and making fun of me. I can't escape him! He's so horrid. I smack his offered hand away and resign myself to sitting on the floor for a while, until I can get myself up off the ground. 

Sandor merely shrugs his shoulders and disappears to some other corner of the house. Good riddance, says me as I lie prone on the floor. 

My time spent moping on the floor isn't a complete waste though, as I find the tv remote under the couch. Eventually I heave myself up onto the couch and put the tv on MTV, full blast. I then quickly hide the remote in one of the pillow cases. When Sandor comes in cursing up a storm I merely smile, watching him trying to find the remote. Idiot man. I watch as he throws things around trying to find it. He's stomping around scratching his head with a frown and I swear if it weren't for the clothes, he could totally pass as the original cave man. 

"Alright then." He says coming to stand in front of me, blocking my view of the tv. I huff and turn my head to glare up at him. 

"Alright what?" 

"Where is it?" He says moving his shoulders up and down hands turned upwards. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. " I smirk when his face turns a little red and scrunches in on itself. 

"You know damn well, what I'm talking about! Where's the fucking remote?" 

"Hm. I have no idea! Is it not where you left it?" Sandor flexes his phalanges a few times and his jaw twitches.

"Whatever." He grunts out, still blocking my view.

""Whatever."" I mimic in a high pitched voice, mocking him. I laugh at myself and he looks down to where I'm sitting. His face turns serious for a second. He doesn't look so harsh with that expression. He rests his arms either side of my head. Time stands still, Justin Beiber fades into the background, the tv isn't so loud anymore, all I can hear is the sound of my own heavy breathing. Sandor's hair isn't tied back today, it tickles my cheek as he leans ever closer. The smile falls from my face. My eyes itch to look at his lips, so I do. He looks at mine. He edges closer, I close my eyes...

And he's pulling away. He straightens and smiles triumphantly, remote in hand. "You have asthma?"

"What? No!" I reply breathlessly. 

"Hm. You should get that checked." He says grinning at the blush that extends from cheeks to toes. My whole body is like a human lobster right now. Sandor flicks the tv off and disappears out of the room with the remote. 

"You were in my space! It was freaking me out!" I try to clarify. 

Sandor pokes his head back around the corner and raises his eyebrows at me before he breaks into another devious grin. "Oh, and honey. We're leaving in an hour." 

"What where?! I can't go anywhere like this!" 

"Oh, but you'll have to. Cage fighting tournament. All. Night. Long." 

"Ughhhhhhhhhhh!" If my foot wasn't sprained right now, this is when I'd stamp it petulantly.


	9. SORRY ITS BEEN AGES SINCE IVE UPDATED ANYTHING HERES A SHORT CHAPTER PLEASE FORGIVE ME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> surprise ;)

After finally managing to get my pant leg past my swollen ankle without pain, one would've thought it would be smooth sailing from here on out. WRONG. Sandor makes an appearance every .02 seconds to remind me how slow i am at getting ready. I politely remind him I won't be getting ready at all if he doesn't leave me alone. Alas, her we are now. One eyebrow drawn on, no jacket, shoes still in my hands in the back of a taxi. I envy Sandor’s ability to pick me up and just place me wherever he wants me. However i cant deny that if i shared this talent Sandor would already be in a lake of sewerage by now.

I must confess he does look rather cute. All excited to watch people beat up other people. and theres this kind of giddiness to him, like a kid thats about to meet iron man. Anyone who has this effect on Sandor is not someone i want to meet. Probably drowns kittens or something for fun.

when we arrive Sandor is out of the car, paying the taxi fair, and half way to the entrance before i can finish even slipping my shoes on. i hobble like an invalid while calling for him to slow down. i have no dignity anymore. people kind of stop and stare but i am so passed the point of caring that i actually growl. i stop myself. its contagious. his fowl behaviour and temperament. i can feel it in my veins like a virus infecting my very core. and why am i chasing after him anyway? this is one of those moments i could be leaving and running to get help. you always see this part in the kidnapping doco’s as the point where the kidnappee escapes the evil clutches of their captor and saves themselves.

looking around me i cant see Sandor anymore. this is it. This is how i save myself. i spot a man in what i assume to be a police uniform entering the side of the building. “hey! Hey you! Sir, please wait!” i call out and as i get closer i begin to notice how massive he really is. even bigger than Sandor. Fate has changed its tune. the universe has decided to look on me favourably once more.

“yes?” i hear his baritone voice answer me. i look up and realise this is not a police officer. He's barely a man. this beast before me smirks down and sizes me up. Eyes lingering on my breasts and even leaning over me to catch a glimpse of my behind.

“never-mind…” i say going to walk away but people are swarming behind me to get to the beast and i feel a gorilla sized fist close around my wrist and pull me forward through the doorway. the door slams behind me and the man i thought would be my saviour looks down at me maliciously. i struggle to realise myself from his grip, so that when he does let go i fall against a wall.

he smacks his lips and meets my eyes with his own stone cold grey ones. “i have an idea.” he says matter of factly and pulls me towards what can only be described as a cluster of less than savoury characters all yelling and chanting. the lights are blinding and all i can rely on is my sense of hearing as he pulls me through swarms of people. i hear the place go quiet and then muttered whispers of “what the fucks the mountain doing here?” “Isn’t it just the bastards fighting tonight?” “fuck, whats he doing?” “poor thing” what does this all mean???? i try and adjust my eyes to the bright lights just in time to walk up some steps and into what looks like a. Massive cage in the centre of a… dear lord Jesus, why are there so many people? oh my god i still only have one eye-brow drawn on. okay Sansa, bigger problems at hand. i take a deep breath and try to calm myself.

the big brute loosens his hold on me and pushes me forward. i stumble and wince as i put too much pressure on my ankle. “Come out ya Bastards!” i hear him roar behind me and two young men approach the cage from the opposite side. my heart leaps, maybe they’ll help? Wishful thinking, when did we get so well-acquainted? the two young men only step into the ring to stare at me with the same look in their eyes as the beast in blue behind me.

“fight ya for her?” he drawls, looking down at me. Shit. this is not good. Suddenly i find myself desperately wishing for Sandor. “Or ya too scared?” he asks tilting his head to the side.

the ‘bastards’ both look at each other and laugh. “never.” the short dark-haired one answers.   
“actually I'm rather excited to finally kick your ass Gregor.” the other one says taping his hands.

theres no bell, no starting sound, the beast lunges forward without further a due and i crawl to the side trying to get out the wire door we got into the cage through. but as someone opens it and offers me a hand to help me out the cage door slams shut “stay where i can fucking see you. you little bitch.” he yells in my face before swinging another punch at the bastards. i hear people start to chant “mountain” as he lays into one of the bastards. 

Oh on. Its almost over. and then he’ll have me and i don't know for certain but i feel like if he wins this night ends with me in a shallow grave. I search the crowd for Sandor desperately. But my hope dies just as I'm pretty sure one of the bastards literally does from a hit to his stomach and collapses on the ground.

The mountain raises his fists in the air as people scream and clap and cheer. after about five minutes of feeding his ego the crowds noise dies down a bit and the mountain turns his attention to me. he stalks towards me and lifts me from the ground by my arm and i try my best not to whine but an “ouch” escapes my lips and as his eyes turn from excited to a different kind of excited i try and break free from his hold.

And then there’s this yell from the crowd and everything stops. 

“Come on! Fight me, you fucking coward!” 

The Mountain drops his hold on me once more and peers out into the crowd, trying to find the owner of the voice that called him a coward. He’s angry now. I can see it in his eyes. Its as if before he was only playing. But the look he gives the man who steps into the cage is enough to scare me I almost don't realise that look is directed at Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS GUYS GUYS!! so sorry I haven't updated in a million years I've been SUPER busy and life has just been kicking writer out of me this last year. no excuse, I know. and I'm really very sorry. I hope to one day continue all my unfinished fics. sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger with this one too xx


	10. Knife's Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from Matt Corby's Knife's Edge. Its a some good groovy tunes, and kind of inspired this chapter. Thank-you so much for all your lovely messages! You all inspired me to continue writing and gave me that extra push I needed! Thank-you for your support! heres a new chapter for you lovely bunch of people! xxx

I could hear the crowd roaring in delight, at the possibility of a second fight. Sandor stared at the mountain with a thousand fires burning behind his eyes. A fleeting thought entered mind that I should be flattered he was so ready to fight for me. But I quickly dismissed this line of thinking when he turned his gaze to me. He wasn't just angry at the mountain. I don't know the consequences of this little failed endeavour to escape would be but that look made a promise it’d be nothing good. 

There were officials trying to get to the cage but the crowd purposely shut them out in an effort to see the fight transpire. When i look back to Sandor snd the mountain i see them circling each other and sizing one another up. The Mountain didn't do this with the Bastards. Why? He’s much bigger than Sandor, and he doesn't know he can fight.

“Baby brother, how good to see you.” the Mountain snarls and gasp in shock. That thing is Sandor’s brother?

“Cant say the feeling is mutual, Gregor.” Sandor yells back over the raging crowd outside our cage. And his words ring true by the look of disgust on his face at seeing his brother prowl around the edge of the cage right to where i sit curled in a ball. 

The Mountain looks down at me and back to Sandor, and has a knowing smile. “Oh, so you’ve come to try and save another of my little women, is that it?” he laughs. Another? Does this happen on a regular basis? Dear god, what kind of brothers are they? 

Suddenly Sandor stills and lunges for his brother with a ferocity I have never witnessed in anyone. and what sounds like “She’s mine!” Escapes his lips but i cant be sure as the crowd grows even louder. 

Sandor tackles his brother to the floor and I'm surprised. The mountain must be called “the Mountain” for a reason. He looks like an immovable force. Yet, the mountain falls like a sack of potatoes to the ground. I hold my breath as Gregor drives his fist into Sandor’s side. I can’t look! I’m a pacifist! I hate violence. I cover my eyes but every few seconds I have to peek through my fingers and see who’s winning. It doesn't look good. Sandor’s on the ground getting the crap kicked out of him. Whenever i’ve imagined this happening its ben a blissful daydream, but i cant find it within me to be happy now. In fact, I'm cursing myself for being so small. If i was big i could help i could do something to help. 

Help. How can I help? Why do i want to? Ugh, no more questions Sansa just do it. I look around the cage for anything I can use to aid me in my attempt to distract Gregor long enough for Sandor to get up. Darn it all to poop theres nothing here! Wait. There. i crawl speedily to the far corner of the cage and grab the small stool sitting in the corner. I hardly think this will make much of a difference, but at least i can get Gregors attention away from Sandor.

i hobble over to where Gregor is kicking into Sandor and swing the stool against his back with all power i have. Big surprise the wood just splits into a hundred pieces. I jump back and prepare for Gregor to turn his attention to me.

Are you for real? What the Frick, man? Its as though he didn't even notice. Okay, Sansa. Desperate times, desperate measures. I prepare myself for impact and jump onto his back. Who even am I? Gregor still seems unfazed. he just keeps on kicking. Sandor’s been blocking most of them but his arms are getting really cut up and bruised. I do the only thing i think will help. Like I said I'm a pacifist and if i actually hurt Gregor no doubt he’ll kill me with a flick of his fingers. 

It’s not particularly difficult either as I've been scared this entire time and you know how it is when your scared. A warm wet liquid covers Gregors back as i release my full bladder. For a moment i begin to fear that this too will go unnoticed, but after a few seconds Gregor stops and looks down at the yellow urine covering himself and the floor. 

“You filthy, fucking bitch!” he roars as he tries to turn to grab me off of his back but I'm already off and hobbling to the other side of the cage. He turns slowly and with a look of pure hatred takes a step towards me… and slips in my puddle of piss. The crowd screams with laughter, and if i wasn't still scared for my life i would to. I must admit it did look rather funny. His legs flew up and he fell straight on his butt. 

In the time i’ve spent caught between amusement and complete fear, Sandor has managed to stand and get the upper hand. Literally. He raises Gregors arm and pushes his knee to the back of Gregors elbow. There’s a horrible snapping sound and i want to puke. Gregor roars in pain, Sandor has already dropped his flaccid arm, pulled back his chin and punched him straight in the throat. Followed by a succession of punched to the head, and Gregor is down. Like, i don't even know if he’s alive down.

Sandor breathes heavily, the whole stadium is silent, as if they're all in shock. Can’t say i blame them. I kinda am too. While still catching his breath Sandor looks up to me and smiles. Actually SMILES?! What the heck is wrong with this man? What the heck is wrong with me? I start to feel a small smile tugging at my lips as butterflies fill my belly and all fly down south. Oh dear. Well, this is an interesting development, indeed.

Sandor walks towards me like a lion stalking its prey. The world melts away as he invades my space, getting so close I can feel the sweat from his hair drip on my shoulders. 

Still smiling, he squints his eyes and says “Let’s split, babe.” taking my hand in his. i don’t quite know how he isn't repulsed to make any contact at all with me. I don't know if he needs reminding I'm still covered in my own urine. 

All I really know is I am in serious trouble, cause this kind of trouble doesn’t have me scared anymore.


End file.
